His Number One
by Tarafina
Summary: There’s no one more important than his Chloe. Chlollie!


**Title**: His Number One  
**Rating**: T  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Drama  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Oliver, Oliver/Others (transition pairings)  
**Summary**: There's no one more important than his Chloe.

**Dedication**:_ Late birthday present for my good friend **atruwriter**_!

_**His Number One**_

1/1

**I **

Natasha Erins was not in a good mood. She stood impatiently in the elevator, her toe tapping angrily. It rose higher and higher, up toward Oliver's apartment, where she expected him to be. He hadn't called with some work emergency, hadn't given her a heads up on cancelling their dinner date or anything. While Oliver had always been attentive in the beginning, his attention had been waning from her and she didn't like it. When it was work, she could understand his responsibilities elsewhere. But she knew this was not one of those occasions. It was something else entirely and it was far worse.

As the elevator dinged, she pushed the cage doors open and stepped out. As soon as she heard the raucous voices from the room down the hall, she knew exactly what took place. It only made her more pissed. She practically stomped toward the living room, briefly wondering if it was bad for her Prada heels.

As she entered the room, she found Oliver with his arms wrapped around her competition. Admittedly, she could tell he was trying to show her a move on the Playstation controller in her hand, but still.

"No, no, like this," he told her, grinning. He pushed down on the button a couple times and the blonde beauty in his arms nodded slightly, the top of her head bumping his chin. He kissed her hair before laughing as her guy on the screen died brutally.

"It's X not O, isn't it?" she sighed.

He nodded before retracting his arm from her shoulders and picking up his controller. "Okay, one more time and then we'll get dinner."

She bumped into his shoulder. "No more Chinese."

He groaned, frowning. "I was really craving egg rolls though."

She rolled her eyes. "You're always craving egg rolls. I want pizza; a large supreme with extra cheese and stuffed crust."

"Try to keep the drool at a minimum, Sidekick," he told her, pressing down hard on his controller as he battled some grotesque monster on the screen.

It miffed Natasha even more that they could continue on like usual, no idea that she was there, watching and incensed. This wasn't unusual, though. It was just the opposite, which was the problem. If Oliver wasn't with her, he was with his precious Chloe. Ninety percent of his phone calls were from her and he was always talking about something or other he and his Chlo did that day. She understood that they were close friends, maybe even best friends. But that didn't mean that Chloe had to take up the majority of his time. Some of it should be reserved for her. Her, who wanted to go to a nice restaurant and show off her incredibly sexy billionaire boyfriend to the twenty or so of her friends that she'd ordered to go to the same restaurant so they too could relish in his awesome looks and jealously wish they were her.

Instead, she looked like an idiot sitting on her couch, waiting for hours for him to pick her up. She fended off the three phone calls the restaurant made to her and finally told them to just give the table away when it hit the three hour mark. The only reason they waited so long was because she kept reminding them it was Oliver Queen who would be eating with her. Wearing an expensive dress, her best shoes, and bathed in perfume that cost her a good four credit cards to buy, she looked way overdressed for their little night in with the PS3 and their pizza dinner.

She watched as they sat shoulder to shoulder, laughing and shrieking in triumph or dramatic anger as they played around with no cares in the world. This was where she and Oliver differed. She wanted the glamorous life; the paparazzi and the tabloids and the money that could get her everything. She wanted to look good with such a delicious slab of man on her arm and show the world that she snared what everyone else wished they could. Instead, it was nothing like what she'd expected. Sure he was charming and handsome and he lived up to his reputation of being an incredible lover, but he wasn't who she'd thought he'd be. He was a regular guy; he wasn't overly romantic, instead rather reserved. He had his secrets and he didn't look like he was going to be spilling them to her anytime soon. Or ever. He was always busy and he spent more time with his blonde "Sidekick" than he did anybody else. She wanted to say she wasn't jealous, but she was. Maybe Chloe Sullivan wasn't blessed with Natasha's cleavage or her naturally perfect figure, flawless skin, and radiant black hair that hung to her hips. She didn't live in upper Metropolis or have a list of boyfriends that rivaled Paris Hiltons, ranging from quarterbacks to heirs, but she was Ollie's number one girl.

And Natasha came to the annoying understanding that nothing was going to change that. "Oliver?" she called out, a rather reserved tone to her voice.

Startled, Oliver turned around and nearly jumped up from the floor. "Nat? Uh, why are you… What are you doing here?" he asked, too surprised to even put on the usual Queen charisma.

She lifted a brow and waited only a minute before his eyes widened in realization.

"Dinner, tonight, at that Italian restaurant." He frowned. "I'm sorry, I just…"

"Got caught up." She nodded, glancing at Chloe who was avoiding her gaze and pausing the game. She stood up slowly, reaching for her coat and purse.

"I'm just going to…" She pointed toward the door.

"No," both Natasha and Oliver said at the same time.

Natasha glared at Oliver before turning toward Chloe. "You stay, I'll leave." She lifted a shoulder, smiling as though it didn't bother her in the least. "We're done, Queen. And FYI, you can easily afford a day planner. I suggest you get one." With that and a hair flip, she turned on her Prada heels and walked toward the elevator with flair. He'd regret it one day, she decided. He may have his exciting little investigative reporter, but one day her charm would wear off and he'd realize he could've had Natasha and her perfect curves. But he lost out. With a sigh, she leaned to one side and smiled. She heard Stavros Niarchos was on the market again. She pulled her cell phone out and perused her contacts for his number. He'd cheer her up. Maybe with a nice little day trip on his yacht.

**II**

Alyssa Rembrandt was not having the best birthday. Her friends were all around her, oohing over presents and eating cake. They were sipping champagne and chatting amongst themselves. She'd lucked out in the present's department and the company was fabulous as usual. But one person was missing; her boyfriend of three weeks. Sure they'd only just really gotten together, but he was expected to be there and he should've been. He told her he wouldn't miss it for the world, those were his exact words, but he was nowhere to be found. She jiggled her knee up and down, her leg twitching with her irritation. The flute of champagne she was drinking was now warm and her smile was fake whenever somebody looked over to the birthday girl. She should've known this would happen. She'd been warned, but did she listen? No, of course not. He'd given her that charming smile and she was putty in his hands.

With a deep breath, she decided then and there that he had better have the best explanation in the world or she was going to have to cut him loose. If this was any kind of example of what their relationship would be like, she wasn't going to hold onto him. She took a new flute from a silver tray as a waiter passed her by and turned toward her friend at her left. "Let's start the drinking games. It'll get everybody ready for truth and dare," she suggested. The crowd around her cheered; maybe her birthday wasn't a total bust.

By morning the next day, she found out from a mutual friend that he was at the hospital. She'd had a small panic attack when she was first told, only to learn that he wasn't the one who was injured. She was stuck between anger and understanding and as she showed up at the hospital, she was still warring with her emotions. She found the room easily, only having to ask one nurse for directions. As she approached the room, she felt her knees wobble just slightly. A voice inside her head told her she could just walk away, forget all about confrontations and learn to live with his lifestyle. She knew how strong friendships could be; she was willing to die for any one of her three best friends. But something about his relationship with Chloe Sullivan rubbed her the wrong way.

As she pushed the door open just slightly, she spotted the bed near the window, the only one in the room. He obviously paid for her to have her own special, private suite. Chloe was fast asleep, her face banged up and bandages covering various scrapes over her arms, neck and face. And sitting in the chair next to her, hunched over with his face turned to the side on the bed, staring up at her worriedly, was Oliver. His hand was wrapped in hers, fingers twined in a most intimate way.

The young reporter stirred, eyes fluttering open and a tiny, sleepy smile showing as she spotted Oliver.

"Tell me you haven't been here all day," she murmured in a croaky voice.

He smiled, though it looked more pained than anything. "You know I can't lie to you, Sidekick."

She never quite understood the meaning of that nickname. Alyssa had asked him once but he'd changed the subject.

"It's just a little concussion," Chloe told him.

He rolled his eyes, cracking a real smile this time. "It's a sprained wrist, broken ankle, shattered rib, and bruised larynx."

"What'd you do? Memorize my records?" she teased, brow quirking.

He glanced down at the sheet, his thumb rubbing circles on her hand. "You were out a long time."

"That's what happens when people sleep."

He shook his head. "Reminded me of all those times…" he trailed off.

She unclasped their hands and reached out, her IV hanging down from her wrist as her palm cupped Oliver's cheek. "You worry too much," she told him, rubbing the underside of his eye.

He covered her hands with his, eyes closing. "Your fault."

She exhaled slowly before running her hand over his hair. "You're not living up to your number one bachelor profile, Queen. Wrinkled suit, ungelled hair, no shave…" She smiled. "Not a bad look."

"Get some more sleep; you're getting delusional," he told her, smiling lightly.

"Thought you worried when I slept too long," she mumbled tiredly.

"Now that you've woken up, I know you'll be fine." His tone was so serious, so worried.

"I'll always be fine," she assured, eyes falling shut and hand slipping from his hair to lie back down on the bedspread.

He wrapped his long fingers with hers once more and nodded as he leaned back in the comfortable chair he sat in. "I'll make sure of it."

Alyssa stepped back from the door and swallowed tightly. Well that was it then. The chapter of her life involving Oliver Queen was officially over. She pulled out her phone and decided that she'd text him the news instead of talk to him face to face. She wasn't sure she could get through that charming smile of his. Not when she knew that it wasn't truly genuine. His real smile was reserved for the small blonde sleeping at his side.

With a sigh, she walked away.

**III**

Victoria Strathcome's night was not going as planned. She'd entered the gala on the arm of one of the most handsome men in history. Decked out in a strapless gown that hugged all of her curves, she looked simply radiant. Diamonds in each ear and a pearl necklace around her neck, she was ready for a night of hobnobbing with the rich and famous. Instead, she was stuck by the buffet, waving off filthy advances from men who wish they could get within five feet of her. Her date, boyfriend of four months, Oliver Queen, was currently having the time of his life, out on the dance floor with his best friend. Her date was nowhere to be found, of course. Victoria hid her scowl well. She didn't want premature wrinkles, after all.

Ever since she met Oliver at a charity banquet she'd known of his history. Plenty of girls had warned her of his ways. In fact, close friend Natasha Erins told her that there was no point in chasing after Queen; he was hooked already, even if he didn't know it. But Victoria wasn't one to walk away from a good thing. He was handsome, rich, and damn near exhausting in bed. Growing up with parents that were always away for business taught her how to handle his various work related trips and she'd happily found some other hot young man to shack up with until Oliver came back, but this was not how she was going out.

She knew that they wouldn't last. She wasn't a one guy kind of girl. She liked to play around, see what was out there, and enjoy herself immensely. And frankly, being tied down with 2.5 would do nothing for her hips. She didn't bother telling Oliver that, seeing as he wasn't the shining example of monogamy. Sure he didn't openly date three or five woman at a time, although he easily he could, but it was well known in the gossip circles that he was head over Armani shoes for best friend, Chloe Sullivan. Some run of the mill reporter that probably didn't even know what a Versaci dress looked like up close.

Victoria had met her, of course. Everybody who knew Oliver eventually met his "Chlo," and while anybody who hadn't dated him had shining reviews for her - she's funny, interesting, smart, and charming, they'd all tell her - anyone who had dated Oliver knew that Chloe only made things difficult. Oliver Queen went nowhere without some kind of connection with his little Sidekick. Whether he was on the phone with her, texting her, or standing at her side, his attention was almost entirely reserved for her. Business often took him away but Victoria knew that oftentimes Chloe went with. And if she didn't, she was the first he went to. It wasn't girlfriends or work associates or anything similar. It was always straight to Chloe. They'd order in and watch movies or play video games and it was strictly the two of them. No girlfriends, boyfriends, or other friends allowed. It was an Oliver/Chloe night; officially.

Victoria didn't much care; that is until she got completely ignored, and in public no less!

She could handle the lack of phone calls to let her know where he was or when he was coming back. She could put up with the wonky schedule he kept; leaving her high and dry on dates because of some work emergency. She could even put up with his Chloe/Oliver nights and his obvious love for his best friend. But she would not be publicly humiliated by him. While he was off dancing his cute little ass of with Ms. Perfection, Victoria was stuck pretending she didn't care and that just wouldn't do. She was supposed to show all the other ex's that she could do what they couldn't and instead she ended up looking like she was just second best.

He was twirling Chloe around, arms wrapped tight against her body, a grin on his face and laughter rumbling out of his chest as he spoke quietly with her. All the world was ignored as he fell into his tunnel vision alterna-world where Chloe was the star and nobody else existed. Victoria had put up with it as long as she could. She didn't want a ring or kids or even the three infamous words. She wanted to look good, make a whole lot of other people jealous, and be the first and likely only woman to ever walk away from a relationship with Oliver Queen unscathed and heart intact.

She watched, fuming on the inside, as he paid no attention to his bored-out-of-her-mind and fuming date, instead kissing his best friend's cheek and whispering something against her ear, eyes drawn downward in an adoring expression. How could he do this to her? Let the whole room see who he was obviously in love with? It made it look like she, the Victoria Strathcome, couldn't keep her man's attention for longer than five minutes. He'd entered the gala, charmingly taken her coat for her, walked her into the main room, spotted Chloe, and was gone.

"I thought he was your date," she heard from her side.

She turned, a stiff smile on her face as she looked over to the severe woman next to her. Gloria Benness – just one of the biggest gossips in high society. She was probably the richest woman in the room, as well. Four husbands later and she was rolling in the riches and didn't bother hiding it.

"He is," Victoria told her, lifting her chin. "That's just a good friend of his. He noticed her date had run off with someone else and didn't want her to feel rejected."

"Really?" Gloria tipped her head, mouth pursing. "Because it looks an awful lot like he's dancing with the love of his life, while you were brushed off." She turned toward her, a brow lifting. "Don't worry, dear. It happens to them all. You're just another name on the list, I'm afraid." She gave a short laugh that was effortlessly mocking. "You didn't really think you could turn his head for long, did you?" She smiled insincerely. "Better luck next time." With that, she walked off, waving to a few "old money" types.

Victoria sneered at the woman, though she couldn't see her and then turned her attention back to Oliver and Chloe, just as her boyfriend dipped his best friend back before drawing her up in a quick sweep. Their faces were so close for a moment she wondered if they might kiss, instead they smiled at each other and the intrepid reporter pressed a cheek against Oliver's shoulder while his arms lazily encircled her, chin resting on the top of her head.

It was worth a try, Victoria decided. She glanced across the room and spotted Chloe's date; a handsome young man with a killer smile. All is fair in love and war. She grinned to herself before walking toward the unsuspecting male.

**VI**

Michelle Allen knew from the start. She met Oliver in the coffee shop she worked in. Every day he ordered the same thing, one for himself and the other for Chloe. For reasons she still didn't quite know, she had accepted when he asked her out to dinner. That was six months prior and while she didn't exactly regret the decision, she knew that there was no way she could stay with him. His heart wasn't in it and if she stayed much longer, she wouldn't have a heart left. He was a good man; nice, funny, charitable, and honest. He was handsome and charismatic and he never made her feel left out. But while he may have loved her, he was nowhere near in love with her.

She saw the way he looked at Chloe. She noticed the way his hand always found hers or how easily he was physically comfortable with her. It took awhile before he was at a stage where he could intimately kiss Michelle. Or hug her, hold her, cuddle with her. He was stoic and reserved and he didn't like flaunting his feelings to the outside world. But when he was with Chloe those boundaries disappeared entirely. His arm naturally wrapped around her waist or his hand fell to the small of her back. If her bangs fell across her face, he brushed them away absently. Michelle had seen him nap with Chloe, arms wrapped tight around her as they slept on the couch after a late night of work that she wasn't allowed to know about. She'd seen him freak out when Chloe was hurt or worry when she hadn't called in a couple days. She'd seen him excited when Chloe got her first byline or annoyed when she got passed over for a good position. Sometimes it felt more like she was the friend, watching in on his relationship with Chloe rather than herself.

For awhile she'd let it go. She really did love him and she had hoped that he could love her back. That maybe one day he would look at her like he did Chloe, or even hold her the same way. That he might use that same husky tone that came out when he was whispering to her or that he'd finish her sentences as if reading her thoughts. But he never did. He was attracted to her, sure. And he really did care about her. He learned to schedule time for dates and he never forgot a really big milestone or celebration. He was there for her brother's graduation, despite only having met him a few times, and he'd come along for her parents anniversary party, acting as charming as ever. But he was more distant than he needed to be and his feelings for her had hit their peak. He wasn't going to wake up one morning and shout words of tenderness to her or anything similar. His heart had been given away long ago, he just hadn't accepted it.

Michelle was a simple girl. She didn't have billions of dollars and she really didn't care to. She loved her family more than anything and she'd give the world to her friends if they asked. She was balancing her job at the coffee shop with her studies at college so she could own her own bakery. She didn't care for the limelight and she didn't go out of her way to get people to notice the fact that she was with the most handsome billionaire alive. She was content with a low key relationship that was just between the two of them. But then she realized that it would never really be that way.

So when the time came, she gathered up her strength and walked into his apartment office, where he was hard at work and very distracted. She waited for him to finish his phone call and then stated quite calmly, "I'm done."

Confused, he shook his head, slowly rising from the seat.

She lifted a hand. She didn't need him coming over, staring into her with his warm brown eyes and changing her mind. "I love you, Ollie. I really do. But you don't love me."

His brow furrowed. "I do. I—"

"You're not in love with me, Oliver," she told him, slightly exasperated. "You're in love with her."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Is this about Chloe? Because I told you, we're friends and that's all."

"Is that all you want to be?" she asked, point blank, staring at him with serious eyes.

He paused for only a moment and she knew that he knew what he really felt. "Yes. Of course," he lied.

She shook her head. "I don't know how long it's been or how long you're going to avoid it. But you're in love with Chloe and she's in love with you. And I honestly hope you do the rest of the female population a big favor and just accept it already. You've broken enough hearts, I'm sure." She sniffled, cursing herself for showing weakness. "They come and go, these women who think maybe they can change it. Maybe they can make you fall out of love with her and into love with them. But it's never going to happen!" She threw her arms up. "Your heart is set on her. Everything you do or say or think, it all relates back to her. I know it, she knows it, the whole god damn world knows it, Oliver!" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I'm not going to fight the inevitable," she whispered sadly.

Some part of her wanted him to fight for her, but she knew that he wouldn't.

He stared at her in reserved acceptance. "I'm sorry," he finally said, when the silence felt suffocating.

"I know." She nodded. "Not sorry enough to let her go though."

Swallowing, he shook his head, eyes turning away.

Yeah, that's what she thought.

Licking her lips in a typically uncomfortable fashion, she stepped back. "Be happy," she told him, before turning and leaving his apartment, never to step foot in it again. She wouldn't look back, she wouldn't regret it. Not saying hello or goodbye. She hoped he finally saw the light, because she honestly wouldn't wish her broken heart on her worst enemy.

**V**

Chloe Sullivan had no idea what was going to happen when she walked into Oliver's apartment. She'd been there a million and one times before, but as she entered the living room, she realized she'd never seen it so… romantically lit. There were candles everywhere, tulip petals strewn around and some music playing in the background. As she shed her jacket and tugged off her scarf, her brow furrowed in confusion. She checked her watch to make sure she got the time right. He told her to be there at nine sharp and after finishing up a few things at The Daily Planet she'd hurried over. She left her bag at the door, alongside her shoes and stretched her arms above her head to uncramp her back. She wondered if he would give her a back massage if she begged him to.

Ever since Clark had taken on his position as Superman three years prior, she found herself growing closer to Oliver. She didn't want to say he replaced Clark, but he filled in at first and then eventually grew to have his own special place in her life. With Clark now spending half of his time trying to win over Lois and the other half saving the city, Chloe spent the majority of her time working or with Oliver. She'd seen his many relationship crash and burn, not feeling the least bit sorry for all but one. Michelle had been a sweet woman and she'd honestly hoped it wouldn't end badly. She admitted - only to herself while in dark rooms, where she could pretend it was all a dream - that her feelings had long ago heightened from just friendship for her green leathered best friend. She wasn't willing to admit it to anyone else though, no matter how much Lois nagged her.

She was content with what she was to him. She was the first person he called for anything, good or bad. The first person he thought of in all circumstances. When he arrived home, he called her up for a night all their own. When he left, he called to tell her he'd landed okay. They kept their friendship alive through texting, phone calls and e-mails when he was away for long periods and when he came back, she practically lived in his apartment with all the time they spent catching up. He was her rock; the person she could lean on for anything. When she was hurt or in danger, he was always there to help her; Clark was too, of course. But she found that lately it was Oliver's arms around her that did the best comforting. He was her ear for listening and her shoulder to cry on and she was his. They grew to rely on each other and it wasn't long before she could honestly admit to herself that she was in love with him. She never told him, of course. One of the few secrets she ever kept from him.

Currently, she was feeling uncomfortable and out of place. She wondered if maybe she should check her phone and see if he hadn't perhaps reconciled with Michelle and wanted to move their hang out time back a day. But just as she was reaching for her cell phone, she heard him hang up his phone and walk toward her. He grinned widely, obviously not surprised by her being there.

"Uh, did I just walk in on something?" she asked, brow lifted.

He shook his head. Not bothering to answer her unasked question. "Thirsty?"

"Sure. I'll have—"

"Red wine," he finished, nodding with a smile. "No work tomorrow; you usually have red wine when you know you can sleep in." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You tend to oversleep when you've had a few glasses the night before."

She simply nodded. He knew her too well.

He walked back into the kitchen and returned with her glass, holding a beer by its neck. He nodded toward the couch and walked over to take a seat. Following, she plopped down beside him, one of her legs curling beneath her. "How're you handling everything after Michelle?" she asked, tone soft so not to make it sound like she was prying.

He lifted a shoulder. "I'm actually okay with it. She said a lot of things that…" He smiled slightly in a rather knowing way. "Made sense." He looked over at her through the corner of his eyes and she felt her stomach squirm. In the dim lighting, it made the plains of his face stand out even more.

She'd always known he was handsome, it was hard to miss, but sometimes he really did take her breath away. "Like what?" she asked, hoping her voice wasn't quite as husky as she thought it was. Her mind was whirring with lascivious thoughts involving him; sweaty and tense beneath her. She cleared her throat, turning her eyes away and trying to focus on the conversation at hand.

"Just that I was avoiding the inevitable; that what I wanted was right in front of me and I knew it, but I wouldn't accept it." He lifted a shoulder and her eyes fell back to his, a wrinkle marring her forehead. "You're the most important person in my life, you know that?"

Surprised, she smiled. "Bart's going to be so jealous," she murmured teasingly.

He didn't laugh or even smile, still so serious. "In my line of work, I probably shouldn't put so much emphasis on one person." He paused for a moment, swallowing tightly. "But when it comes to you, I can't help it." He shook his head. "Pretty much all of my relationships fail because I think of you before any of them. I ignored them and forgot about them and just plain sucked as a boyfriend." He chuckled humorlessly. "I let them fall in love with me knowing full well that I would never return the feeling."

She frowned. "I don't understand…"

He reached out, hand cupping her cheek, thumb rubbing gently against her skin. "I've been in love with you for I don't know how long and I don't want to avoid it anymore." He smiled, almost hesitantly, as if unsure how she might react. "You're the most incredible woman –person- I've ever met and I don't want to just be your friend anymore. I want you – all of you." He grinned. "If you'll let me."

She bit her lip. It wasn't dark and it was no dream and all those time she'd admitted her feelings only to take them back a second later were long gone. She nodded slowly, her teeth freeing her bottom lip as she smiled. "Took you long enough," she murmured.

He laughed before leaning in, pulling her face closer until finally they were kissing. Her eyes fell shut almost immediately and her heart sped up until it felt as though it were going to burst right out of her chest. His lips were so soft and his tongue so hot and he smelled delicious as he drew her up against him. Spicy and fresh and hot. Her arms wrapped around his neck as her front molded to his. One of her hands delved into his hair while her mouth met each brush of his lips. Teeth grazed over her swollen lips, tongue lapping at the puffy flesh a second later.

She'd imagined this moment a million times in the past. As he held her during movies or while they walked down the street; when he kissed her hair each time she left or hugged her tightly whenever they met again. But a dream was no match for the intensity behind his kiss. Years of built up attraction and emotion burst between them and she ignored the overwhelming need for air just to keep kissing him a little longer. His body felt so hard and warm and his tongue felt velvety soft tangling with hers. One of her hands curled around the shoulder of his shirt, fingers tightening in the fabric desperately. God, he tasted so good.

There was a loud buzz in the background that awoke them from their rapturous stupor and they parted, panting harshly.

"What was that?" she asked, licking her lips.

He grinned. "That would be our Chinese food."

She shook her head in amusement. "Extra egg rolls?"

He hopped up from the couch. "You know it," he called back to her as he walked toward the elevator to let the delivery guy in. "Hey, you want to—"

"Get the Playstation ready? I'm on it," she finished, nodding as she slipped off the couch and crawled toward the TV.

A few minutes later, he reentered the living room, brown bags full of their food in his arms. He smirked at her in a way that could only mean mischief. "Wanna raise the stakes?"

She lifted a brow. "What do you have in mind?"

"I win this game, you take off a piece of clothing, and vice versa," he said, sitting down at the coffee table and popping open the bags.

She grinned. "I like the way you think," she said, agreeing. While he was busy getting their dinner out, she unpaused the game and started kicking the crap out of his immobile figure.

"Cheater!" he shouted, laughing as he abandoned the food to grab his controller.

"You know you love me," she replied smiling.

He turned to her, distracting her for a moment as he kissed her tenderly. She was rendered speechless and in shock for a moment as her whole body radiated with warmth. It just felt so right. As she came back to her senses, she realized he knew exactly what would happen and was now kicking her ass on the giant screen in front of them.

Shaking her head, her thumbs started moving around wildly on the controller. "Prepare to lose your pants, Queen."

He smirked. "On the first date, Sidekick? What kind of man do you take me for?"

She laughed. Her man. It had taken awhile –too long- but in the end, it turned out just right. After a whole lot of avoiding, they both finally gave in. He was hers and she was and that's how it was supposed to be. After all, Chloe had always and would always be his number one.

**Author's Note**: _I'm really, really busy right now, but I promised atruwriter, so here it is. I hope you all enjoyed this. Reviews are sustenance, readers! Luv yas - Fina!_


End file.
